This Dance That Is Macabre Poem by Alexander Joeseph

We do it the best, cause we were taught so.ages to ages it has been passed on, only unto those that seeks solace in peace.the casualties know themselves.you deny knowlege of your deeds, of this silent souls you place beneath the soil, beneath the water in inevitability of ineluctable drowning.you shout the loudest, but our protesting tears shall not be embered by it; this that is macabre, this dance i dance still tales it all in obvious silence.my legs sways reluctantly and the blind feels it is the masqurade dance.i make this steps for the heat beneath my legs command so.the omens has never been good, you give what you cannot swallow, like soar-down vultures, we see only the disdain part.but someday, one day, we shall raise the staff, knowing what all nations know, that the leap of a lion starts somewhere, shall strike back the hard ever had, knowin that the plod of an elephant begins in some distance away.so bear in mind, that this malicious quenched happy spirits of ours, still lingers in the unembered coal of brotherhood, and this dance that is macabre shall halt, and when this staff his finally lowered, your sudden pain shall tale it all